Different Sky
by Leenh
Summary: Sometimes Charles gets lost in the past and he's letting it consumes his heart out till there's nothing left. Two-shots of angst because i'm having too much feels.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: this fic happened because i was having too much Cherik feels. I'm embracing the pain, just like what Charles said in DOFP /creys/**

**Anyway this is my first fic in X-Men fandom and i think i kinda improved on creating details... **

**Special thanks to my friends Chii, Alice, Reki and Ryuumao because they helped me deciding on the title and gave some ideas XD**

**Also this is set before DOFP where Charles is struggling with himself. So yeah, enjoy the pain.**

**-x-**

**Different Sky: Chapter 1**

Charles sighs in exasperation, dropping his heavy body to the bed. Reaching his nightstand and taking a bottle of spine therapy, he infused himself with it and rolls the emptied syringe to his side. He closes his eyes, feeling the drug working inside his body, bringing him far away from his power. He likes the silence – the peace in his mind without all the desperate sounds of his fellow mutants. He doesn't care anymore since the first semester of his school had been closed down due to his students and teachers leaving to fight for the Vietnam War. Nothing seems to matter anymore with everything's been taken away from him. He has lost everything dear to him. His sister. His ability. His best friend.

_Erik. _He grits his teeth just by remembering his name. The man that turned his back on him for the sake of his selfish demand on wanting the mutants to rule over humans. Illogical. _Complete, utter bullshit. _He thinks to himself. _Look where that nonsense led you._

The previous night, Hank had made him a cup of hot chocolate and they spent time by watching TV together. He smiled and took the cup gladly from his hands, blowing the fumes away, waiting for it to cool a little so he could drink it. He's wearing his oversized cardigan to make him warm, but also covered himself in an extra blanket to keep him away from the chilly air of November. Another reason that's keeping him at his feet beside his ability to walk again is the loyal mutant sitting beside him. He hasn't lost everything, fortunately.

Hank changed the channel once the film they previously watched was over, and his finger stopped pressing the next button on the remote when a reporter on the TV announced that John. F. Kennedy was killed. He was shot in Dallas, Texas just yesterday, and the one who was said to be accountable in the president's death instantly made Charles' expression turned horror. Unable to hold the weight on his weakened hands, the mug slipped and fell to the floor.

It was like everything happened in slow motion. His mind was playing games with him. He _did not_ just hear the name _Erik Lehnsherr _for assassinating JFK. As badly as he wanted to know his whereabouts without the help of his telepathic ability, he didn't expect something like this would happen._ Why? _His mind couldn't stop thinking at a rapid speed that almost caused him to collapse, but the shattered glass on the floor and the feeling of his feet burning jolted him back to reality. "Ouch!" He shrieked.

"Are you okay, Professor?" Hank panicked, he quickly helped Charles to get up, placing one hand on his waist and put the professor's arm over his shoulder. "The mug—" Hank growled at him, even when he's suffering greatly, he still thought of other people's feelings, not wanting them to take care of his mess. "Your feet are far more important than the mug!" He said, voice one octave higher than his normal calm tone, and brought the miserable man to the bathroom to wash his burned legs.

"I'm really sorry for troubling you like this, Hank." He said, smiling at the man that's bandaging his feet. Hank looked up at him and smiled back, saying that it's nothing. Charles couldn't hide some blush that crept to his face, knowing that Hank must knew that he took the news pretty badly till he actually dropped the cup he was holding. That's really embarrassing. It's all because of one particular man that shot JFK. _What have you done, Erik?_

He later knew that Erik was securely guarded inside the Pentagon in Virginia, and he's going to spend the rest of his life there for the abominable crime that he did. Peace was what Charles promised to him if he let go of his vengeance, but peace was not what Erik wanted. If he would just listen to him, they didn't have to chase after a different sky. They still could have had it all.

Charles feels like he could hear the voice of Erik in Pentagon desperately screaming for his help, but he knows that it's not real. Beside of the fact that the distance of Westchester and Virginia is beyond his telepathic area, he's also lost his power for some time now, no trail of loud, misery thoughts to disturb him. He gets up nonchalantly from his bed just to sit on his couch near the fireplace– the same couch he always sit on whenever he and Erik plays chess together– and pours himself a good amount of Scotch.

He sighs and leans his ponderous head back on the couch, kneading his forehead in hope to make his headaches go away, but he can't help the images of Erik comes flashing through his mind. They used to play chess every night, right where he sits on now. Erik would always be sitting across from him, wearing his usual black turtleneck that outlined his muscular body shape. He groans at the thought, clearly doesn't want to remember the moments they had together when Erik was still here, both good and bad. It hurts him to remember. He wants to forget. He wants to annihilate the pain in his chest but it's inevitable. Sometimes he gets lost in the past and he's letting it consumes his heart out till there's nothing left.

He drinks his Scotch and closes his eyes, giving up to his mind that's projecting the time where Erik had first kissed him. It was shallow and soft– nevertheless full of desire. Charles knew that they didn't need words to convey what they feel, as action speaks more than words. They used to love each other greatly. Where is that thing called _love_ now? The distance between their hearts that can't come together daunts him even now.

Sometimes on lonely nights, he would go to Erik's old room and stays there, reminiscing memories he had with the man. Charles never felt lonelier when all he could do was to hug one of the turtlenecks Erik had left, not being able to hold the real person. He often falls asleep on the floor, just hugging the shirt tightly to his chest. He has no one to embrace the tears and pains for him now. Erik's not going to come home no matter how hard he wishes, no matter how long he waits, he knows it from the beginning.

He stares at the empty couch across from him and frowns, but there's a little smile at the corner of his lips.

His mind's scattering away from reality as he watches the fire dances and he finally falls asleep with tears on his cheeks.

**-x-**

A/N: Second chapter will be updated soon, and it'll be over before you know it (nooo!) Reviews, fav and follows maybe? :D


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: so this is the second and last chapter of Different Sky. I have to divide it into two because this one is set after DOFP and in Erik's POV. So without further words, I hope you enjoy it!**

**-x-**

**Different Sky: Chapter 2**

_"…Rik."_

He knows that voice. The familiar voice's ever so calm and gentle. It's been years. Three, to be precise, that he finally heard that sound he desperately longed for. The voice of Charles Xavier, his old friend. Erik smiles bitterly, it is just around 8 AM in the morning where he rubs the sleepiness away from his eyes, and the sound in his mind is calling him like it's his job to wake Erik up every day.

_"Erik"_

He's calling his name again in his mind, this time softer and clearer.

_"It's been a long time, Charles."_ He replies, but now his smile is genuine.

_"Indeed it has."_ He can feel his friend smiles too even though he's not here. He can be, if he allows himself to. But no, Charles has not shown himself even in Erik's mind for quite a long time, let alone talking to him like this. He guesses he just needed time to be able to get into his head again. But it's mainly his fault for always keeping Charles away from his mind, not wanting him to know what he's feeling in the years of his absence.

_ "You're blaming yourself again, Erik."_ The voice says with a hint of guilt and Erik instantly puts his shields up around his mind. Clearly Charles doesn't need to see and feel the chaos in his heart and mind otherwise he'll only drag him along, down into the abyss. _"Why were you hiding from me?"_

Erik grits his teeth, still locking the past mistakes and regrets in his mind, untouched by Charles. _"To protect you."_

The telepath doesn't make any sound. Same as Erik, he's guarding his thoughts up, not wanting him to know his true feelings. Not yet.

_"Charles?"_ Erik's voice is concerned, he wants to go where he is now, letting go of all the innervating feelings he always have in all these three years of hiding from the Government's chase. Now he wished Azazel was here so that he could teleport to where Charles is in less than one second. Too bad he went alone now. No Brotherhood to lead. No nothing. Just him, scurrying away from everything.

There's still no answer for a minute, and then another minute passed and he loses Charles' presence in his mind completely. It makes him afraid that he won't ever hear the one voice he loves anymore, or see his face, his unshaven beard and long, messy hair like the last time he saw him in front of the White House. It hurts a little inside when he remembers about that.

Erik sighs in desperation as he walks his feet towards a small fridge to take a water bottle and drinks half of the content out, and makes his way to the bathroom afterwards. He wonders if he's said something he shouldn't say. Yet he still hopes that he'll show up or even just talk to him again, even if it's only in his mind, and smiles at him like he always used to do, thirteen years ago. Time sure flies too fast, he thinks. And he regrets all the things he'd done, not listening to Charles. All the years he spent in Pentagon, not being able to contact anybody from outside, especially the one person he always wanted to be with, the only one with the ability to _hear_ him.

That's why when he saw Charles was there to save him, he felt like a blast of electricity just hit him and instantly made him feel alive, for once in a long time. The unutterable emotions that ran through him when he finally met him again were inundating. He didn't think he would ever, _ever_ see his old friend again.

The images of Charles' face and expressions play in loop inside his mind. He smiles bitterly as he recalls the way he used to laugh with him when he told him jokes, the way he smiled and said 'good morning' to Erik on his side of the bed every time they woke up beside each other, the way his cheeks turned red when Erik teased him, the way his luscious lips turned unbelievably red when he kissed them, and the incalculable game of chess they played, accompanied with little talks about everything and nothing. Oh, how he missed all of that. But the last time he saw him, he was in a lot of pain, the unspeakable agony in Charles' blue eyes reflecting in his own green ones.

He looks into the mirror, and startled when Charles is the one showing up as his reflection. "You could have told me first before appearing so suddenly." Erik curses under his breath, he can feel his heart racing after given a very impetuous style of showing up. Charles is clean-shaven and his hair is now shorter than the last time he saw him, looks more like the first time they met. Or maybe it's just the image he wants Erik to see, not the actual Charles. He doesn't know and he doesn't care, as long as he can see him – his dearly beloved friend.

"Hi yourself." Charles's reflection in the mirror smiles at him, "Sorry for the delay, the Cerebro malfunctioned for a second but Hank repaired it." The younger man clearly just needed a moment to get back to his normal self without the fragile feelings that were about to burst if he kept on saying things five minutes ago.

"And sorry for appearing in the mirror…" He says again, "Not at my best aptitude, I'm afraid."

"Never mind that. It's really good to see you." _I miss you, Charles. I miss you a lot. _The thought's replaying in his head, and he can feel his heart breaks in every possible ways. He can't help but stares at those captivating cerulean blue eyes, thinking just how beautiful they are, as if the life has came back to those eyes.

"How's the mansion?" He quickly opens up a conversation, afraid that if he keeps thinking of missing him, he'll have to go over to Charles' mansion and hug him in person, and he can't do that. Not now, anyway. But Charles must have known what's inside his unshielded mind, sometimes he forgot that he actually _read_ minds.

Charles seems to be choosing his words carefully, just like he always has, "We've just finished on the renovations about six months ago and we opened a new semester." Erik's brow shoots up and mouthing an 'oh?', he does expect him to rebuild himself from zero after he's got his fervor back.

"And there are a lot of new interesting students, Erik! I can't believe we're able to restore this mansion into becoming the house to these incredible kids. They're happy here. Oh! And Raven is happier than ever. She's with Hank now." He continues, expression turning soft and Erik likes watching him this happy. He failed to give that to him then. He will not have the chance to prove him wrong even now.

"That's good to hear. You're the perfect man to guide them, Charles." He grows silent for a second, "I wish I could be there with you." He murmurs quietly to himself, but Erik knows he must have heard him, because his expression turns a bit troubled and he runs a hand through his hair, eyes darting everywhere except the man in front of him, afraid that he'll break down to tears again, and this time Erik could see. Oh how he wants to touch that dark, short hair himself and comforts him by stroking his back in soothing circles over and over again.

"Erik.." Charles puts his hand up to the glass, and the taller man hesitates in reaching it, but he puts that thought at the back of his mind and finally reaches for the smaller, paler hand that's parallel on the other side. "I wish you were here too." Pained eyes and wretched smile on his face tells a whole lot of inexpressible story. _Charles, Charles, Charles. _His mind keeps screaming his name, desperate for a real touch. But he can't go back to the mansion. He will only cause trouble for Charles and the kids because of his own foolishness.

He leans closer to the glass and Charles does the same, pressing their foreheads together, but both can't feel the warmth of the touch. He feels so helpless with Charles so close, yet so distant simultaneously. "I'm sorry." are the only words he can utter.

"You don't have to be." Charles smiles, though Erik misses it with the very close proximity to his illusion, but he sighs again in relief. This is enough. This very moment, with _Charles_, it's more than enough.

"Stay a bit longer?"

"For you, anytime."

**-x-**

A/N: Thank you for those who have read this short fic till the end, I probably won't continue this since it's really a dead end ;; it's just an emotional roller coaster without plot. But i hope they're happy. They should be, after all that has happened ;_;

And leave me some reviews or favs on your way out, maybe? Peace out!


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